Life handed me lemons; very bitter lemons with no juice in it. Those tiny ones that are not yet ripe; bloody bitter lemons that are basically waste of fruits and I wondered how do I make lemonades off my own lemons?! Or isn’t that what people say: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade?! How do you squeeze small balls of lemons that are so dry?! Who came up with that stupid notion anyways. I bet it was a stupid housewife who enjoys a cup of lemonade probably tons of shots of vodka in it when her husband is out at “work” and she knows he is just out shagging the maid who goes out to shop at the same time her husband leaves the house. Bloody, lonely woman who has nothing but her glass of very alcoholic lemonade to deal with her midlife crisis telling us what to do when gives us lemons. Does she even know you can’t just make lemonade out of lemons?! You need tons of other ingredients to make a glass of lemonade. Pfft, such ridiculous advise.
Anyways, life handed me the proverbial lemons and with no juice in it; nothing that can make the proverbial lemonade. I am beginning to say lemons and lemonade too much and it is getting me really angry. Really though, how do you ever qualify life’s hardship with lemons?! I knows lemons are bitter and stuff but even lemonade is not good for everybody; I know this because it gives me the worst bout of heart burn I have ever had and I hate it. So, lemonade is bad, very bad for me and it doesn’t even represent “joy” to me; who wants to spend minutes or even hours clutching their chest in pain?! Is it not just wise to leave the lemons be and just stare at them? Maybe I am just one bitter girl trying to really make sense of all the tough things I have to go through recently and figure out a way out. Maybe I am just frustrated about my situation that I am taking it out on poor lemons.
You see, life has been really hard; almost too hard to bear. There are times I wonder if I had signed a deal up in heaven to bear all the burdens all my friends and family are supposed to bear because I have never heard my friends and siblings complain about one bad thing. Okay, that’s a lie, they do complain but compared to what I have been through and still going through, I find their complains really trivial and I wish in my mind I could switch lives with them. I mean, if getting heart broken by the finest boy in their class who they hardly talk to asking their friend out is the worst that happens to some humans, count me in, I want a jolly trip in their shoes. I bet it will be easier to deal with than having to struggle to not crash, to stay afloat and live above it.
Live above it; that’s what my friend I had managed to tell a bit of the story to told me to. She said “put yourself together and live above all of it. You are stronger and a better woman than you know. I nodded and pretended I understood everything she said to but frankly, I am still trying to figure it out. Live above what exactly?! Live above what was eating deep within me, rendering me a walking ghost?! How do you put yourself together when you don’t even know where the shattered pieces are?! Even if I knew, I would not know where to start from and I am thankful for the blind faith my friend has in my strength and virtue but I am not a good woman or strong woman at all. If I was, I would not be in this situation. I would able to fight every single time I find myself drowning, I would fight the current and stay afloat but I surrender every time and just sink deeper and deeper.
No strong woman would want to just sink without struggling, they would fight until they can walk on water or at least till the water doesn’t terrify them. So, nope, I am not a strong woman and I am not better either. Only if you knew the many things I had had to do stay sane but I can’t; you will judge me without even knowing the options I have to choose from. You will condemn me and crucify me without hearing what really happened or how it happened. I know you will judge because that’s what humans do; lay on their beds or sit on their couch and judge people like they live their lives. It’s like some sort of drug, like cocaine that makes people feel superior to the other person. Oh, look at that girl, she is so nasty, thank God I am not like her. Yes, you’re not like her.
At least, she is a million times better than you who sit on your ass doing nothing but blaming and blaming people. They are my lemons, face yours! It is a lot to deal with already, so I am not going to add being judged or condemned to the equation. So, I will keep quiet and maybe one day, life will be kind enough to turn my lemons to oranges or apples or watermelons. I am not even going to be picky, just give me some damned ripe lemons I can at least squeeze some juice from.
P.S: I legit think that “if life hands you lemons, make lemonade out of it” quote is one of the most pretentious things I have heard people say to people going through issues. What lemons?! It cheapens a lot of them struggles we face…
I hope you enjoyed this short story… Please leave a comment to tell me what you think, I will love to hear from you…
From Whip Girl, with love